The Threat of Humanity
by Kirilla
Summary: For years Kirilla has ignored the human blood running in her veins. Yet even now, in the midst of peacetime, something strange is brewing on the air. The age of humans is rising, and with them a great evil.
1. Prologue: Searching...

Disclaimer: I don't own many of the characters in this story. J.R.R. Tolkien created them with his brilliant imagination. So they belong to him. *sniff* Kirilla and Mearia and Sarolas, however, are my intellectual property. 

Don't flame me, please. If you find you dislike MH, don't read it. If you think Kirilla is a Mary Sue.. don't read it. Or better yet, go off and inspect your own work.. there're more Mary Sues around that one might think. I will defend my work. Plug it and go screw a thornbush if you hate my work. Don't comment unless you have something /constructive/. It may seem at first like Rilla will be a Mary Sue.. but if you wait and are patient.. she may just turn out better than you thought. 

Pictures: Yes, I have pictures.. since I saw LoTR, my artwork has been dominated by elves. Go take a look, if you feel like it, leave a comment in the guest book. More stuff will be added as I get access to the school scanner. :) - http://community.webshots.com/user/maisyleah - 

The snowy pelt of the unicorn reflected the sunlight and the soft green glow of the forest. She moved with an ethereal grace and beauty, strides calculated and careful, but flowing. Her spiralling silvery horn curved slightly, shimmering in the light of the sun. Cloven hooves moved across the ground quickly, soundlessly, carrying her with speed and elegance, her long mane and tail flagging in the wind. 

Violet eyes speckled with silver and gold watched the land as she sped through, their gaze deep, wary. She was watching for someone.. or something. They were not normal unicorn's eyes, though, and it gave her away to the observer. Elven eyes were hers, darting back and forth. 

Suddenly, she came to a halt, mane and tail streaming against her neck and hindquarters. Then she peered warily around, as if to make sure she was alone. Slowly she lowered herself to the ground and curled within herself. A shimmery, white light enveloped her, and an elven maiden was left in the wake of the unicorn, curled up. 

Languidly, she pulled herself to her feet and stood her full height, long hair falling about her in silvery waves. A soft, blue gown adorned her, in such a light hue it could easily be mistaken for white. Her face was gentle, her skin a pale, almost milky color, in contrast to a gemstone necklace that fell across her neck, silver in color with a gemstone hanging by the thinnest and strongest of threads. 

The gemstone itself was emerald melded to sapphire, surrounded by a ring of silver, which was outlined by pure gold. A sort of ageless beauty was possessed by the elven maiden as she peered at her surroundings. Then quite suddenly as she was perfectly still, she was racing through the trees 'pon leather-clad feet. 

As suddenly as she had begun her race, it ended beside a rather ancient-looking tree. Violet elven eyes scanned the serene forest for signs of life. Tranquility found, the pale one leaned against the tree, one arm stretching out across the trunk as if giving the tree a hug. The fingers of the hand tapped against the tree, then traced a path along the bark. Slowly, the bark fell into itself, creating a window into the tree. 

Wearing a grim look, she pulled from the tree a bundle and threw it over her back, fastening the strings over her shoulder. Next she pulled out a hunting knife and lowered to tuck it into a slit in her sandals. The last thing she took from the tree was a finely-made set of pan pipes. With a soft smile, she looped them into a pocket of the bundle. 

Leaning back from the dark hole, her long, pale fingers played another tapping sequence, and the hole pulled itself together again, the bark seeming to melt back together. Whispering a soft thank you, she crept away. 

"It is time to visit Galadriel. She will know what it is I seek and what it is that has been hunting me these past years," murmured Kirilla, daughter of the half-unicorn elf called Laurea, born of one of the few unicorns of Endor, who had taken on an elven form by will of her love, an elven warrior from Lothlorien, haven for all those with elven blood running in their veins. 


	2. Chapter One: Fallen

Disclaimer: I don't own many of the characters in this story. J.R.R. Tolkien created them with his brilliant imagination. So they belong to him. *sniff* Kirilla and Mearia and Sarolas, however, are my intellectual property. 

Don't flame me, please. If you find you dislike MH, don't read it. If you think Kirilla is a Mary Sue.. don't read it. Or better yet, go off and inspect your own work.. there're more Mary Sues around that one might think. I will defend my work. Plug and go screw a thornbush if you hate my work. Don't comment unless you have something /constructive/. It may seem at first like Rilla will be a Mary Sue.. but if you wait and are patient.. she may just turn out better than you thought. 

Some quick notes: 'Ië' means yes ; 'Namárië' means farewell ; 'Ortielyë?' means Are you awake? ; Elya is an Elven greeting. Thank you to an old friend of mine, Sara, for helping me out with Elven phrases. Kirilla's name in the story is pronounced *key-real-lah*, with a bit of a slurred accenting. An alternate pronunciation would be *Kare-ill-lah*.. that is how my pen name and MUSH character's name are pronounced. Also, when I write in Elven, though I'm learning the languages, I don't know quite so much. You can assume all words spoken between elves is Sindarin or Quenya. Also, no, Kirilla is not 'me'. To be quite honest, I am rather boring compared to Kirilla. So to answer your question, Gabrielle, no :) She's an entirely different persona, though a bit of me may rub off. :) 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

~*~ Kirilla ~*~ 

As I fought the orc along a northern part of the Anduin, I grew ever more weary. The unicorn's will and stamina deep within me was fading. The elven dexterity and power were slowly draining from the depths of my soul, leaving only human weakness, which I never counted on to help me through problems. 

Blood drenched the mossy green tunic and skirt I wore, along with dirt, even slime. Not just blood of my own, mind, but also that of the orcs. For every orc I slayed, there was another. I wanted very much to morph into my alternative form-- that of a unicorn, but I knew that they would close in all the faster. Unicorns are fierce in battle, yes, but the time it took to change would throw me off. It would be a fatal mistake. 

I thought back to how I had found myself in this situation. All due to my wanderer's soul, I supposed. Most of the unicorns in the unexplored regions of Endor stayed close to home. But I had fought in many battles. Why was it that this battle was to be my ending? A tear of pain sprung to my face as I realized that my choice of immortality had such a great price to pay. I had hoped to live forever, and find so many more adventures, despite over two thousands years already. 

Yet now, as I tried to force the orc upwards and away from me, I knew this could well be my final resting place. My bow and arrow were useless here, yet the finely made elven bow was cracking from its spot around my shoulder and back, pressed against the ground. I thanked Valar that my quiver was thick enough to keep the arrows from stabbing me in the back. It was rather uncomfortable.. but not compared with the bow's splintered edges. 

I glanced to the left, noticing my dagger sticking up from the neck of a fallen orc nearby, and, with a spurt of energy, rolled out from underneath the orc upon me, getting knicked by his mace we had been fighting over control of. Snatching the dagger I hadn't had the use of for a long while, I whirled to my feet and deftly sliced the sharp dagger through the orc's neck. Once he fell, I moved on to the next, and over the next quarter hour, I felt triumphant. I would win! I would live! 

But triumph is for those who do not think ahead.. or behind, as it may seem. Without my horse, it would be the same. Just as before, the orcs grouped against me.. they took my dagger, and seized me. But not to kill, it seemed. I made out their horrendous speech just barely, for though I had a knack with languages, their accents were thicker than a slab of butter. 

I continued to jerk, trying to escape their grip as they argued over what they should do with me. In this time, I lost all but one hope.. the Unicorn's Call, which unicorns used as a last resort, to summon any nearby unicorns to their immediate aide -- unicorns are very fleet of foot. I knew I would have to lower it an octave or two, for the Unicorn's Call is a high-pitched keening wail containing words of my grandmother Iirama's home language.. that of the unicorns. 

Elves had the second best hearing of all the creatures. The only creature with more keen hearing was the unicorn, and naturally unicorns spoke with a musical, expressive, tongue.. but the language was very high-pitched, to make certain no wanderers would find the homes. It worked well, for unicorns remained more or less undiscovered. 

I prepared for only a moment, because one of the orcs had just suggested they cook me. Then I leaned my head back and opened my mouth. What came out was a wail that took the orcs by surprise. It hurt their eyes, and they cowered. The wail resounded throughout the forest, echoing back to me, but I did not yet cease. It continued for many minutes. When my voice was spent, I collapsed to the ground. I realized that the orcs were gone, and glanced around wearily. 

Some had fallen for no apparent reason.. other than my sound bursting their eardrums, or perhaps other parts. I had heard stories of high-pitched sounds breaking things, even rendering beings unconcious or deaf for life. I pulled myself to my feet, feeling faint. Shaking my head, I scowled when I realized my braid had been torn, and my stream of silky silvery-flaxen tresses was now uneven, dirty, and ragged. But it would be brushed out and cleaned at a later date. I had more important things to do now. Like get away from this spot before the orcs reawakened or returned. 

Yet before I could step further, a group of elven warriors came through the bush, accompanied by a Man and a Dwarf. I blinked for a moment, focusing on an elven man clad in mossy green and gray, at the front of the group. He stepped closer, and asked me something in Sindarin. Yet the words suddenly didn't make sense. My vision blurred, darkened, and I fell to the ground in a heap, my last thought being, "Who are they that I summoned?" I had no idea that the orcs returned at that moment, and a battle ensued around my fallen form. 

~*~ Legolas ~*~ 

After the battle was finally won and the last orc dead, Prince Legolas turned once again to the young woman who lay crumpled on the ground nearby. He kneeled beside her and peered at her face. It was a very pale face. Elven eyes and ears, he noted silently. But what of the silvery scar that graced her face? It was shaped as a star, and seemed to give off a faint energy. As his blue eyes looked her over, noting her grimy state, he picked her up carefully, trying to avoid the wounds adorning her pale skin. 

"Return to Mirkwood. I'm coming right behind you, a bit slower, though," he called to the warriors, who nodded and disappeared, all but the Man Aragorn and the Dwarf Gimli. 

"And just how do you expect to get her back to Mirkwood alone?" Aragorn asked, a dark eyebrow raising slightly. 

"I shall carry her." 

"Carry? To Mirkwood? Rivendell is closer, you know." 

"It goes over the mountains.." 

"You could always go through Moria.. it's led again by Dwarves, you know," Gimli put in, "You'd experience that hospitality we.. missed that last quest." 

Legolas shook his head, then sat down with the woman, laying her across his knees and putting an ear to her heart before whispering softly, trying to speak to her mind lost in the Dream world. At the mention of his home, an outburst of hatred, fear, and anger emerged. Legolas was surprised, but supposed that his companion's suggestion of Rivendell would work better. Even more to his surprise, the reaction he got was filled with calm. 

"Rivendell it is," the warrior said simply, and pulled the lady into his arms and began stalking toward the Misty Mountains. Then, resigning himself for several moments for days of darkness, he paused and added, "We're going through... Moria." 

Gimli was overjoyed and started off the journey quickly, followed by the Prince of Mirkwood, who was carrying the fallen lady. Bringing up the rear was Aragorn, also pleased to be going to Rivendell, for he had been planning already to journey that direction had the elven folk he'd been traveling with not heard the Unicorn's Call. Certainly, he was pleased to be returning to his wife, the Lady Arwen, who was visiting her father in Rivendell. 

~*~ Later ~*~ 

Their first evening within Moria, Legolas refused to leave the side of the mysterious elf, and throughout the night sat with her across his knees. Thus each of the four nights past. On the third night, she awoke briefly to find herself surrounded by the arms of the elven warrior who had saved her. 

"Lady?" a deep voice whispered against her earlobe. Kirilla shivered and slowly opened her eyes, leaning her head back painfully to gaze on his face. 

"Wha..?" she managed to croak. 

"You've been hurt badly, Lady. We are taking you to Rivendell." 

"Rivendell...," she murmured, and a soft smile rose on her face. Legolas was intrigued, for it lit up her entire face, despite the blood and grime settled deeply in her skin. 

"Your name, milady?" 

She blinked quizzically. "My.. name? Kirilla..," she whispered faintly, then her head fell back to his chest and she was into the world of darkness once again. Legolas repeated the name, frowning to himself. It wasn't from any language he knew.. and in his many years upon Middle-Earth, he had grown to know many indeed. Making note to ask Aragorn in the morning, he leaned back and rested. 

~*~ Kirilla ~*~ 

Once again I awoke from the darkness.. all around me it was white.. the air was fresh. Slowly I cracked open an eye as my senses slowly returned. I realized a warm hand was holding my cold one, a head of long, blonde hair was settled on the bed next to the hand. 

Music filtered through the wind, an ethereal quality flowing to it. My violet eyes opened another crack, and the beauty of the room I was in took me by surprise. As I stared in wonder at the shimmering curtains, the head rose, and I was presented with a gaunt, fierce face.. the face of an elven warrior. Blue-gray eyes that were suddenly so familiar are what I noticed first, dark eyebrows arched over them in greeting. 

"_Elya. Ortielyë, Kirilla?"_ a deep, rich voice said quietly, in the rhetorical. The lips of the elven man moved with the words, and I nodded slowly, much too exhausted to wonder how he knew my name. 

"_Ië_." I was so tired, and the pain was still great, yet I was awake. I murmured further in elven-tongue, my eyes slipping down to where a hand with long, slender fingers held my own, then back up. I eyed him curiously. 

"_You.. answered my call._" 

He nodded solemnly. 

"_And.. you were the voice in the darkness_?" 

"_Yes_." 

"_Then I thank you_," I said, managing a grateful smile before I rose, sitting up in the bed. As suddenly as I had risen, pain shot up my back and I cried out. 

The warrior who had saved me rose quickly, standing his full height, and called loudly. He lowered again and watched me, eyes almost warning me not to move a muscle. 

After only moments, two elven women came, bearing satchels with herbs, salves, and the like. One carried a cup of hot tea. Setting their satchels down, they shooed the warrior out, giggling like a pair of geese when they came back to my bedside, whispering to each other in excited tones. 

I tried not to roll my eyes in annoyance, but even so, I cleared my throat loudly. They both jumped and peered at me. 

"_Oh, I'm sorry, dearie. I'm Mearia_," one said, flipping a long lock of blonde hair. "_We're apprentices, you know, but Lord Elrond told us we were to watch over you. The Prince needs to get back to his business, you know. You've taken up so much of his time_..." 

"_It /is/ sad that he feels he must follow through on all his promises, though," the other murmured, pulling a bit of salve out of her satchel and sitting down on the bed behind me. "I'm putting on the salve now, so do be prepared. It will sting, on wounds such as yours_." 

"_Oh, for Eru's sake, Sarolas, sometimes those warriors are rather quiet and trustworthy. Valar only knows how many times I've wished I could make my darling understand what a promise means_." 

On they chattered, over many different topics. I was not included, though I listened shamelessly, wondering about the goingson around Rivendell since my last appearance in the area. I was amazed that not all the elves here were as I knew elves to be. Because of the more intimate contact with humans those of Rivendell had had since the wedding of Elessar and Evenstar, they must be growing weaker. The humanity was rubbing off on them. It disgusted me. Yet what disgusted me more so was the fact that I myself had human blood running in my veins.. yet I had not succumbed to some of the traits humans had. So I hoped. 

My distaste for the maids grew as they prattled on, and I began ignoring them, focusing more on my wounds, murmuring phrases from the oldest language of the unicorns, Danaron. 

"Sumachara. nera sula merafula Kasuffola..." I continued on, speaking a chant of healing and restoration for myself. I realized not how long I had been speaking until a new presence entered the room. 

"So. You have returned," the voice of Lord Elrond rang across the room. I stopped abruptly in my chanting and looked up, surprised. 

"What are you doing here?" I demanded of the elf lord. 

"This **is** my home," Elrond said, grinning wryly. I chuckled slightly. 

"Pardon me, then. I was surprised." 

"You have suffered a great deal as of late, Lady Kirilla.. I cannot help but know that your mother would not be happy on my next visit to your secluded home." 

I raised my chin defiantly. "I have no real home. I am a wanderer." 

"Wanderer or not.. you were brought to Rivendell for a reason.. I do not know what yet. But it will reveal itself in due time. You are indeed an odd child, now that I've known you yet again." 

"As if you had much chance those thousand or so years ago. I was still the young warrior who knew all the tricks." 

"Still rebellious of your human nature--," 

I cut him off with a spiteful glance in the direction of the doorway, "Human nature, you speak of, Lord Elrond? Do you know what goes on within your own walls?" 

He sighed deeply and shook his head, staring off in the direction wistfully. "Aye, I do know. We are not all foolproof as you would believe elves to be. Even the unicorns succumb at times. You have your weaknesses." 

"I have none," I said impertinently, refusing to acknowledge it as an untruth. 

Elrond snorted derisively. "What are you doing in the healing chambers here at Rivendell, then? You are still young and very ignorant. You may have wandered for many years, Lady Kirilla, but you have not found the wisdom unicorns I have met carry." 

I shrugged it off. "It will come. We are as immortal as you elves. And I have chosen to be immortal. Humanity matters not. I refuse to be... human." 

"You cannot deny your own nature. Your stubborn attitude and stupidity will get you no where," the lord said in a commanding tone. I winced and leaned back, duly chastised. Elrond sighed again and moved toward the door, pausing for a moment to say, "You have suffered a great deal, lady. You need to rest and recover. Drink your tea. You were meant to come to Rivendell." 

I could almost hear pity in his voice, and I seethed in anger, glaring after his form as the Lord of the Last Homely House disappeared. I tried to relax and ponder what meaning my coming to Rivendell could hold, but even then a depression covered me. I refused to cry, though. Warriors who could not be beaten did not cry. Yet a nagging voice carried in the back of my mind as I sipped on the drugged tea... _ You were beaten, though. You are not all powerful. You can be beaten again_. "Oh shut up," I muttered out loud. "It was a one time thing." The tea began to take its effect, and as thoughts whirled in my semiconscious, such a human trait as sleep fell over me, and all was dark. 

I dreamt of what Galadriel had meant on our last fateful meeting, when she had bid me a look in her mirror. She told me I was searching for something, but I would not know what it was until I could lose the something. It was something I had apparently never found once in all my two thousand five hundred years of life. Yet, I was willing to go onto this journey, even to go so far as to promise I would not use my unicorn form until it was found. A dangerous promise.... 


	3. Chapter Three: Exploration

Disclaimer: I don't own many of the characters in this story. J.R.R. Tolkien created them with his brilliant imagination. So they belong to him. *sniff* Kirilla and other created characters, however, are my intellectual property. 

Quick Notes: Yarr. (Yarr is THE word.).. Please review. But please don't flame. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

~*~ Kirilla ~*~ 

In the late hours of the morning, I awoke to sunlight streaming through the open curtains and an aroma of cinnamon, fruit, and flowers on the air. I took in a deep breath and sat up in bed, feeling much better. With a yawn, I pushed the covers away and peered across the empty room. A bouquet of lavender sat on a table, next to a basket of cinnamon rolls. 

"Cinnamon?" I murmured to myself curiously and flipped the covers off my legs, twisting toward the table. As I reached for one of the rolls, I noticed a bowl of fruit behind it, and picked a few succulent strawberries from it, popping one in my mouth and immediately savoring the delightful taste. While I wondered why there was no one else around, I began picking apart one of the glazed rolls, than nibbled on the piece. 

"Mmmm.. good cooks here, I'd say," I said out loud, permitting myself another yawn before I ate another strawberry. After finishing the cinnamon roll, I began to brush my gown for crumbs when I realized that I was still rather grungy.. Well, of course they wouldn't try to bathe me. It would be absurd. I wonder who got me into this gown, though, from those bloody tatters I was wearing before. 

As I pondered how to find the baths, a timid-looking elf peeked in, looking relieved when she found me awake and eating. I smiled at her warmly and glanced at my hands and arms before looking back at her in question. 

"Hello, milady. The Lord Elrond told me to show you to the baths when you awoke.. come?" 

I held back a chuckle of amusement, though I could not help but comment, "He did, did he?" 

"Uh, yes.. We do have nice bathing pools here, milady" 

"Spare me the details, dear.. I know you have nice bathing pools. I do not, however, know where to find them." 

Dutifully, the girl came forward and reached for my arm. I shook my head smiling apologetically in her direction. "I'm rather grimy right now. Just show me the way." 

Off we went, after she had give me a cloak to keep out the cool winter air from my still weakened immune system. I marveled at the beauty of Rivendell. I had not been there in many decades, and yet it had not changed all that much. 

"The Lady Evenstar has left you something to wear.. you should find it easily enough..." the girl trailed off as we neared the overhang of dogwood and grapes over the pathway to the bathing pool which I was to use. 

I nodded shortly, "Thank you, dear," I offered graciously before scurrying down the tunnel-like path. When I had come to the end, again I was found breathless. The water had been redirected from the falls to become a separate, smaller scale waterfall unto itself. Many flowers dotted the soft grassy landscape surrounding the pool. I lowered when I spotted a sprig of honeysuckle and brought the sweet flower to my lips, nibbling lightly as my eyes wandered across the isolated cove that housed the hot spring. 

In a short time, I dropped into the warm water, shivering for a moment before I got used to the water. After swimming for a few minutes, I headed for the edge, and collected a scrub and soap. Then I began working at the grit and grime covering my skin. It took a long time, but the soaps and scrubs worked well, and I was pleased at the scent of the soaps. 

Once my skin was clear, I set to work on the tangled mess of hair, which at some point had been braided, creating even more of a mess. I muttered in annoyance, but with a strong comb I began working through them, inch by inch. The silvery-flaxen strands became more noticeable, once again softening and becoming sleek and beautiful. 

When all was finished, I was pleased with the sweet smell of lavender that my hair carried, and the sandalwood scent the body cream had possessed. Slipping into the light pink gown that had been left for me, I plaited my hair back and slid on a pair of flexible, dark brown sandals. 

Feeling very refreshed, I moved back down the dogwood tunnel and wandered through Rivendell for a time, allowing myself to let go of sorrows and fears and look for hope in the beauty the land possessed. As I walked, I watched the elves that populated Rivendell. They were unsuspecting of my careful observations as they went on chattering and gossiping. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

It did not take long for me to find my way to the library. I smiled as I scanned the bookshelves. A flash of curiosity came to me, and I searched for a certain book. The accounts of the slaughter at Mirkwood. Though, of course, it would be about the demons that had come to Mirkwood for a time during the Second and Third Ages. 

"There," I murmured as I flipped through an old and worn book, "it speaks of them. 'After an initial sighting during which an elf was killed by the wicked horn of these both deer and horse like beasts, more came, at sporadic intervals. The elves of Mirkwood, on guard from the killing of one of their own, slayed any of the shimmering white creatures who came to the forests nearby.' " 

Odd, I thought, that they never tried to figure out what exactly the unicorns were. We are just.. demons. And odder yet, how only one of all the elves tried to find us. My grandfather. He made sure that my family was safe from misuse. Only very few know of our reality.. Galadriel, Elrond, Gandalf... 

"The elves are very much on their guard, Kirilla. Many things go a folly. Did you know that your grandfather was a good friend of mine?" 

My thoughts thus interrupted, I turned and was looking into the faces of Gandalf the White and Elrond. I eyed Gandalf, the speaker. "No. I did not, Gandalf." 

"Yes. He was one of the first to come across, you know. Even then, he had a more open and dreaming mind than most. He searched out adventure. He befriended your grandmother and gave her an elven name. Aye.. there are many stories. He would sneak away from the rest of us and give horrid explanations. But we found out in the end. He went to great ends to be sure your grandmother would survive the illness." 

"He brought her to Galadriel, who summoned me," Elrond took up where Gandalf left off. "We were able to give her the form of an elf. She wed your grandfather shortly after recuperation." 

"And he forgot friendships.. something about you unicorns...," Gandalf murmured, then reached over and patted me on the shoulder in a fatherly fashion. "You'll find what you're looking for, Kirilla. Just remember not to cut off those who can help you.. The Lady Galadriel is not the only one with much wisdom." 

I stared at the pair, wondering why they were speaking to me. Had I done something? Elrond seemed to sense my question and chuckled. "We just care, Kirilla. You are truly one of a kind.. and thus very, very alone." 

"I know," I muttered. Indeed, I was very alone. My mother and grandmother had been alone. Now it was my turn. "I know very well. Now, if you please, is there anything you need to tell me, because I am rather busy." Well, perhaps not that busy, but I didn't feel like listening to their well-intentioned but useless pitter-patter. 

"Actually, I came to tell you that this night there is going to be a celebratory dinner for my daughter and Aragorn. You ought to come," Elrond spoke up, then turned away and headed down the hall. 

Gandalf smiled at me, eyes twinkling. "You ought to, Kirilla. A great deal of elven men will be there. Perhaps one will catch your fancy." 

"Gandalf!" I yelped, giving him a patronizing look. "Will you never give up on that.. topic? Maybe I don't want anyone to catch my fancy! Perhaps I like being alone!" 

His eyes continued to twinkle, and he chuckled. "Still.. they've some wonderfully soft materials these days.. wondrously beautiful, also. Do come!" 

I rolled my eyes in exasperation. "I will come, Gandalf, but only because I know you will persist in annoying me until I agree. Now.. I have research to do." 

He smiled and nodded, turning away and disappearing down the halls with Elrond, speaking in hushed voices. I, however, turned back to the books. There would be time to prepare for a large dinner in the afternoon, however annoyed I was at being duped into going. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

After what seemed many hours of scouring through the library, the Lady Arwen came to drag me out. Time to get ready, she had said. I agreed with some regrets, and she led me to a large room, then to a closet filled with the loveliest of materials and gowns. 

For a time, I marveled over their beauty and textures before settling on a shimmering white fabric, crystals sewn into the lace so that is sparkled. The waist was tight, and the material around her bosom clung, lacy edges settling just above. The skirt fell in soft swirls around my legs, the silky inner layer covered by another, and then with the crystal lace fabric. The sleeves held to my shoulders, holding their own from the edge of my shoulder. The sleeves clung to my arm from the shoulder to the elbow. From thence it fell down in a soft wave to my knees when my hands were held at my waist. 

I was given a softly woven silver belt for my waist, as well as earrings and bracelets. I wore the necklace I wore at all times, but I shined the jewels so that they would gleam even more brightly. I stepped into a pair of finely-made leather sandals and picked up a comb. As I brushed my hair with it, I sang a light song. 

When my hair was finished, the silvery-flaxen strands floating down to my lower back, I braided a section on either side of my head, just above the ear, and when they reached each other at the base of my neck, I wove them together and let the rest fall down. A silver circlet finished off my attire. I placed the band on my head so it would match the fall of the braid, and stepped away from the mirror, smiling. 

"Very nice, Kirilla," Arwen murmured when she came forth to look in the mirror. She herself was dressed in a soft, shimmering lavender gown, the hem falling across the floor, covering her dark slippers. "The look becomes you." 

I chuckled. "Mayhaps. I do it only because some people insist." 

"Really?" she said in a teasing tone. "If you go to such troubles to look beautiful, one would think you like to be pretty. And I dare say, I am most envious of how you look tonight. I am certain many others will, as well." 

"That could not be possible, Arwen, my new friend. You have long been the most beautiful of elves." 

"I am only part elf. And I gave up my immortality. You, however..." 

"I am not all elf, dear," I said, then froze. "Err. Ai!" 

Arwen just smiled. "I know, Kirilla. My grandmother spoke to me of you. I still remember the day.. long ago.. when I was riding my horse in the forests.. and he paused. I remember seeing you, but for a fleeting moment. I could barely keep my mount from rushing after." 

"Oh," I murmured, surprised, then I smiled. "Well.. I am glad you know, I suppose. I have someone.. to speak with more freely now." 

"I know the feeling of being trapped.. it is not the most wonderful of feelings," Arwen sighed. "But now.. Indeed.. I hope we can be good friends. Sometimes the women here.. " 

"They don't understand the wearies of the world. I have seen many things, Arwen. Very many. I was surprised at the.. way you elves of Rivendell are.. or most." 

"Indeed, most. There are many silly ones here. But tonight is a feast, and my beloved and I the hosts. Please.. enjoy yourself.. Take a dance or two. Or three." 

We spoke for a time, arguing over the qualities of elven men in these days. But it was not very long before the bell rang, announcing the beginning of the dinner. Arwen grinned at me and drew my hand into hers. We dashed toward the dining hall, carrying our skirts up from the ground. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Upon arrival, we both knew we were a tad bit late, and exchanged nervous giggles before we headed for empty seats. I, for one, was glad that we were not the only ones late. Arwen went to the spot across from Aragorn and beside her father at the head of the table. I, biting my lip as I peered across the room, moved to the other end, sitting down across from someone who looked vaguely familiar. 

I was not particularly interested in eating, and played with my food for the most part, though I did eat well of the rolls, slathering them with butter and cinnamon sugar. I did get amused glances from those around me, but I tried to ignore them, keeping to my food. 

After desert was served, Gandalf rose and proposed a toast to Aragorn and Arwen. I looked up then, and found Arwen beaming toward me. I smiled back tenatively, and toasted with the man next to me, who grinned. 

"Ah, love. A beautiful thing. Finally, Arwen will be with Aragorn, and they will rule well." 

"Oh?" I played the ignorant. 

"Aye, dear. Their romance isn't the most obvious, but when you looked.. it is there." 

I glanced toward the pair and shook my head. "Naye. They look very much in love to me." 

The man shrugged and returned to the conversation on the other side of the table when Elrond rose from his seat and called for another toast. His eyes fell on me as he spoke. "I would like to propose a toast to a newer resident of Rivendell, the Lady Kirilla, a traveler and an old.. friend." 

"Well said, Lord Elrond! To Lady Kirilla!" Gandalf called out and held up his glass. I was sure I had turned completely red. My ears felt hot, so I was rather sure of this fact. I hid my face in a hand and bit my lip, groaning inwardly. _How **could** he? Humiliating me.. how horrible! And now.. oh dear, fire and rain, they're going to ask **me** to dance now!_ Finally I looked back up and ignored the glances of those curious. I glared daggers at Elrond and Gandalf, who both looked completely nochalant, ignoring my gaze. 

As I turned back, the man across from me caught my glance and grinned, hiding a snicker from hearing, though his eyes were dancing with mirth. I peered at him quizzically, then turned my attention back to the conversations at hand, letting them float over me like a veil. 

It was not long before dinner had ended, and those present were shown to the dancing hall. I, nibbling on my lip as I went, followed the crowd, but instead of seeking out a dance partner, I went to the balcony and looked to the sky, wishing I was back home with my unicorn family. 

"My lady? Would you grant me a dance?" a bass voice broke into my thoughts before I had a chance to begin them. I whirled around defensively and glared, though my expression softened and I smiled wanely. "I.. uh.. don't really dance...that.. well." 

"Not a problem," the tall elf said confidently. "I am a good dancer. I can help you." 

I sighed and held back an epitet. I held out my hand. He bowed and then took it and led me back to the dance floor. I tried not to be graceful, but found it was much harder to have to work at being clumsy than I had thought. Very soon I lost want to try and allowed myself grace. 

"Hey.. you **can** dance, mi'lady," he said in an accusing tone. "Why did you said you couldn't?" 

"Oh.. I don't like to dance.. that much," I said weakly. He chuckled and shrugged. We danced for another song before another elven man came and took me from the taller one. After many dances, I was indeed exhausted and rather annoyed. I hadn't come here to be courted. I had been brought here to heal. _It just figures_, I thought to myself,_ that the timing would end up like this.. I wonder.. is the one who brought me here.. here tonight?_

Finally I decided to stop. Refusing another dance, I broke away from the crowds and rushed for a haven safe from the crowds. I heard several calls following my rushed disappearance, but ignored them. Finally I came upon a stairwell, and collapsed onto the second step, skirts billowing around me. 

"Oh my.. too many.. why must they.. oh.. by the Valar.." I muttered breathlessly, staring down at my hands, settled on my lap. 

"Run away from festivites?" a deep, amused voice broke into my mutterings. 

I froze and looked up slowly. Then I gasped. "You!" 

He chuckled lowly, "Aye. Me." 

"How did you find me?" I asked the warrior. 

"You found my own hiding spot, dear lady." 

"Oh.. I **am** sorry.. I just wanted to find some.. solitude." 

"I know the feeling well. I do not like crowds," he said, leaning on the stair post."Especially this crowd. I prefer my home of Mirkwood, but Aragorn wished the living members of the Fellowship to come for this feast." 

"The Fellowship..," I murmured thoughtfully. "I have seen no hobbits yet.." 

"They are rather short. It is easy to miss them." 

I glowered and rose quickly. "I know what hobbits look like." 

"Fire and rain, don't get so spent, lady," he said, chuckling. "I meant no insult." 

"Well I - ah -.. Well. Fine," I shook my head in disgust and brushed past him. "I am going back to the dancing. Farewell." 

With that, I hurried back. At the entrance, I halted and sighed. I did not **really** want to dance anymore. I did not want to be fawned over anymore that evening. Arwen had told me I looked beautiful, but I did not want it if it meant this.. attention. 

"If you are going back to dancing, the hall is that way, my lady," a voice spoke right beside my ear. I almost jumped. I spun around and glared, angered at being caught off my guard. "Who says I'm going back to dancing?" I asked the warrior in a challenging voice. 

"You said it yourself, remember?" he said smugly. I glared. 

"Well.. maybe I've changed my mind." 

His face grew serious, and his brow furrowed as if he was thinking intensely. Then he snatched up my hand and peered down at me. "If that is so.. before you.. ah, retire.. would you grant me one dance?" 

I tilted my head to get a good view of his face, searching for ill intentions. Finding nothing but question and curiousity, I shrugged _What the heck. He's not so bad, I suppose. He **did** carry me almost all the way here, after all._

"I suppose so. Why not?" 

He smiled and tugged on my hand. "Then come along. A new dance is beginning." 

I groaned when I realized it was a slow song. I hoped he wouldn't try any funny business, but found that he was a very competent dancer. _He's a prince_, I remembered with surprise._ Or that's what those puttering maids said. Interesting. A prince who doesn't like to socialize._ As we danced, I stole quick glances at the others in the hall, and found that we were getting a mix of surprise and envy in the gazes toward us. 

"Are you afraid of the hoards?" he whispered. "They love to gossip.. just think." 

I hadn't realized that he was noticing my glances, and was riled at the look on his face. "I care not." 

He smirked, then his face softened into an almost regretful look as the song ended. Abruptly he left his hold on me and turned away, rushing out of the hall. Instantly I was surrounded on all sides by curious gossipmongers, all throwing questions at me. 

As luck would have it, though, Arwen was not far off, and pushed her way to me. "Come on, Kirilla. Ladies, leave her alone." 

She led me out and towards my quarters, as if recognizing my weariness. Once we were at the door, she grinned at me. "Do you know what you accomplished?" 

I shook my head, curious. "No, what?" 

"You got **_Legolas_** to dance! He never dances. He's the most quiet elf I have ever met. That's beside the fact that he's from Mirkwood. They are known for their love of dance, song, and poetry." 

"Really? Oh. Goodness." 

Arwen smiled. "Get some rest, my friend. Perhaps Legolas has some hope now.. he seemed to enjoy your company. A bit of well-placed pushing.." she trailed off, then turned and headed out the door, calling back, "Good night!" 

I blinked a few times, trying to catch up with myself. I thought about the night, then grinned and huried to get ready for rest. It annoyed me that I actually needed sleep, but I could deal with it. I was actually feeling tired, and is **was** late. As I drifted off to sleep, I wondered about Legolas, thinking back to what I had learned of him. I smiled, thinking of his.. civility, or lack thereof. But he intrigued me. Perhaps there was hope for me, as well. Time would tell. 


End file.
